Sherlock Imagines

Kinktober Day 7; public sex + Sherlock Holmes

Hey, look: Teen!lock—YEET

You didn't know what to think at first, you just felt Sherlock grab your wrist and tug you into the custodial staff closet, hands confident as he pressed your back into the cool metal door. His breathing was already heavy, hands running along your sides and lips kissing at the sensitive skin on your neck.
"I want you," that's all he had to say for your arms to wrap around is neck, fingers coming up to play with his curls. You'd been competing with Sherlock for three years, before he had dragged you into the locker room and had you right there, while practices were going on not two doors down.
"I know." You tugged his head up, taking his lips into yours desperately, feeling one of his hands come down between your legs, his fingers drawing invisible circles into your dampening panties.
"You love this...just as much as I do," He muttered, using his free hand to tug down your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles unceremoniously, "the adrenaline rush; wondering if this will be the time we got caught..." His lips lifted into a smirk, hands pulling your legs around his center. He didn't need to be told he was right, he already knew. This had never just been about your attraction to each other; it was a game. Who would be just too loud, just a little to obvious, and get you both caught? The final competition.
"What would your parents think, Sherly-locks?" You breathes, grinding your hips into his gently at first, "Finding out you, their prized son, has been fucking some working-class reject?" There was a hint of spite in your voice, and there always would be. Of course Sherlock got an extra point on the assignment than you—he had all the time in the world to study. You had to raise your little siblings.
His fingers caressed your cheek, pulling you into another kiss, a faltering moan slipping past his lips and into yours, "They don't matter. All that matters to me right now is you," He promised, pushing down his trousers in a smooth quick motion. Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't. Either way, you were too desperate to care.
He pushed easily into you, your nails digging into his scalp, head falling back against the door. It didn't matter what his background was, not when this felt so good. He adjusted his grip on your hips, carefully decorating your jaw with soft caresses of his lips as he waited for you to properly adjust. No one could deny he was patient, possibly even more so than yourself, because you began grinding down onto him, biting your lip to quiet your whines. He chuckled lowly.
"Hush, I'm working on it." His voice was strained, and when you looked into his eyes, the bright oceanic colours were clouded and dark with desire. He carefully began to rock his hips, taking care to roll your hips into the the door to keep you upright. Your hand came up to your mouth, clamping your lips shut as it all swept over you. When he hit just the right spot, your vision exploded with white light, teeth sinking into your own palm to keep yourself quiet.
"Bloody hell..." He murmured, feeling your body contract in a way that never failed to amaze him. He swore he would finish right then, but a knock sounded on the door. His fingers reflexively moved to the lock, a good decision as someone tried to use a key to unlock it.
"Gary—is this some kind of joke, mate?" The custodian was clearly upset, "Imma go get my other key, but if I come back and it still doesn't work, Imma be very upset, Gare!" He declared roughly, stomping away, steps echoing down the hall.
"Hurry," you whispered, surprised to find Sherlock was more than happy to oblige. He quickly began moving again, quicker this time, fingers delving down into the midst of the frantic movements to roll along your little button of nerves.
"I'm—" He warned, but all you did is nod, a strangled whimper leaving your lips. His hips jerked forward against his set pattern, and held their for a moment. The hard twitch of his fingers against your sensitive bulb as he came pressed you over the edge with a sharp gasp.
There was no time for an afterglow, not with the danger of being caught and expelled so near.
"See you tomorrow?" He smiled mischievously.
You grinned back, laughing breathily, "Tomorrow."